


White Noise

by Tawabids



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Dehumanisation, F/M, Genosha, M/M, Mpreg, References to the holocaust, dub-con, fictional terrorism, this is not a nice story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tawabids/pseuds/Tawabids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles, like the consort Scheherazade of Persian myth, must keep the king of Genosha occupied with stories every night or be hanged for treason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this prompt at the X-Men First Kink community](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6192.html?thread=7624752#t7624752): "On each night, Charles Xavier must tell a story and continue it tomorrow night to save himself from being hanged. He must tell it without losing Magneto’s interest, the madman ruling Genosha/Brotherhood who is on the verge of slaughtering the humans. He must tell it bound with chains, with the crown of metal that blocks his telepathy, on Magneto’s bed." 
> 
> [Wikipedia](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scheherazade) has a good summary of the Scheherazade legend if you're interested, which you should be because it is a fantastic story.
> 
> Huge thanks to Rose Furmary who has made a **Vietnamese translation**! Available here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8288164/chapters/18986956

**recording: frost/house_security/cctv/main_bedroom/camera_2/4_aug_1967**

>Lehnsherr enters  
>bodyguard [quested] enters  
>q: no you need anything else, sir?  
>l: no, please shut up this wing for the night.  
>q: as you wish, sir.  
>Lehnsherr undresses  
>Lehnsherr takes classified file from bedside cabinet  
>Lehnsherr removes photo and begins to masturbate [speech undecipherable]  
>Lehnsherr goes to bed  
>command: zoom  
>file name [undecipherable]  
>file department crest: department for the protection of civilian welfare / prison division  
>  
>Command: delete recording?  
> Y

 

 **Mutant Devastation Reaches East Coast** , _from the LA Times front page, April 3rd, 1949_

The Mutant Free Army continues to swell with deserters from nations on both sides of the Atlantic. High Commander Shaw today declared a solid footing from Maryland to Hudson Bay, cutting off the last of the United States’ forces in Connecticut and Massachusetts and interrupting supply lines between central Canada and Quebec. All non-military members of government have been evacuated from Washington DC and efforts in both nations are underway to receive and house the millions of refugees pouring out of the mutant-occupied area. Reports of widespread abuse and murder of civilians inside the warzone were again denied by spokespersons from the MFA. [for first-hand accounts from behind the lines, turn to page 3.]

Today Commander Shaw also announced to the world his ultimate intentions of establishing a mutant-dominated nation in North America, saying the failure of the Neu Menschlichen Ordnung (the MFA’s German predecessor in WWII) to institute a similar mutant-controlled empire during the height of the Nazi Regime was due to the failure of their human servants. President Truman showed no fear at news of this announcement, saying that the estimates of mutant numbers across the globe were paltry, and could never hope to maintain their stranglehold on American territory. He affirmed that now both the US and the Soviet Union had agreed to lay aside their differences in the face of this common enemy, the mutants had no hope of continuing their “barbaric, unprovoked crusade against humankind”. 

“The mutant cause has survived this long only by abandoning the very tenants of human rights that Western Civilisation has worked so hard to uphold,” Truman told the press today. “Their use of mutant children as soldiers, their slaughter of those who do not share their genetic deviance, and their lack of empathy for their enemies show their ruthless abandonment of good, common ethics. Ultimately, this will be their downfall.”

 

_Classified: Telegraph from President Truman to Secretary of Defense George Marshall: Top Priority: Date December eighteenth, 1949_

msg reads: ACCEPT SURRENDER TERMS STOP GIVE THEM THEIR DEVIL SPAWNED GENOSHA STOP GOD HELP US IF THEY WANT MORE STOP

 

Letter number 1,407 sent from Genosha College students to First Genoshan President Sebastian Shaw prior to the vote on the original version of the Mutant Strength Act. Letter dated 23/10/1953

_Dear Mr President,_  
As the head of the Genosha College Political Newspaper and keen member of the Students for Peace movement, I recently had the chance to interview many of the human families still living and working inside Genosha, and their beliefs about the recent act to deport all humans who do not have at least a spouse or a second-degree mutant relative living within our borders. I spoke to great-grandmothers who say that they have been [redacted], and to the many families whose mutant relatives have refused to acknowledge them, and who will therefore be deported. They fear that [redacted] and [redacted], and say they have witnessed such atrocities before. Many no longer have the documentation to claim US citizenship and will be forced into refugee camps once they have crossed into American or Canadian territory. If you will not listen to the stories from their mouths, listen to them from mine, and from the mouths of other mutants who had seen their plight. Many of these people were born inside Genosha’s borders. They have lived here their whole lives. The economy relies on their hard work. We need them as much as they need our compassion.  
Yours Mutant and Proud,  
Charles F. Xavier 

NB: The Mutant Strength Act failed to pass, but was rewritten to remove the deportation clauses and to deny humans the right to vote without a first-degree mutant relative and/or a mutant spouse. Mr Xavier was stood down as a student of Genosha College one year later due to unpatriotic acts and incitement of unpatriotic acts. 

 

archival footage: classified: internal records of Genosha: Location House Suite One: 21:34 – 5/4/1957: President Shaw to General Erik Lehnsherr 

>shaw and Lehnsherr sit across from each other  
>shaw is pouring whiskey for two  
>s: i hope this isn’t a surprise for you, erik. you’ve always been my favourite to lead the party if anything were to happen to me. you are, after all, the only one unlikely to arrange my assassination in order to ensure it.  
>l: i'm honoured that i inspire such hope in you, sir.  
>s: i've never doubted you. now – we need to talk about who you can rely on in such a situation. bodyguards come and go, but i've no doubt emma can choose the best for you. she can stay your head of security.  
>l: sir, you’re assuming the nation would vote me in, if something terrible were to befall you  
>s: oh, they will, erik. they will. i've always felt that where the masses come to speak, a little nudge in the right direction does the trick. if you know what i mean.  
>l: [silence for 1 second]  
>s: [drinks] what’s more, you’ll never worry about her loyalty if you take her as your omega.  
>l: i wouldn’t, sir. i don’t feel the bond with her. no offense, as she is beautiful.  
>s: oh, don’t be so old-fashioned. omega-alpha bonding is for humans and their limitations.  
>l: it’s for civilised creatures, sebastian. you’re bonded with emma, you know what that’s like.  
>s: civilised? and yet you didn’t think about civilised when you were crushing men inside their tanks, when you were turning the humans’ weapons against them. mutants must focus on breeding strong mutants. if you are an alpha, she will respond to you as if you were bonded. she can no more refuse than she can tell her heart to stop beating.  
>l: it wouldn’t be right-  
>s: erik, when you are president, [drinks again] you must make your own right. for the good of the nation.

 

**recording: frost/house_security/internal_phones/office_zero /line_1/6_aug_1967**

**Frost:** We need to talk.  
 **Lehnsherr:** About what?  
 **F:** About Prisoner 719.  
 **L:** [silence]  
 **F:** Erik, the word from the courts is that you’re thinking of giving him a presidential pardon. I have a dozen ministers, half the PR crew and six of my favourite mutant supremacy lobbyists breathing down my neck right now, all asking me to go behind the scenes and work my magic with you. Don’t make me disappoint them, Erik.  
 **L:** This is not the decision of lobbyists. I show mercy to whomever I wish. Xavier is too much a symbol of the pro-humans-  
 **F:** Which is why he needs to be wiped from the face of the earth. Publicly.  
 **L:** We don’t need him to become a martyr. Not now.  
 **F:** The police scandal will die down with time. Xavier’s rhetoric will only die with him.  
 **L:** He was nothing but a vandal before he was arrested. He’s only in the spotlight because we put him in the spotlight.  
 **F:** Don’t give me this bullshit, Erik! I know! I’m a damn telepath and I have been by your side for nine years and I KNOW! You damn well bonded with him the second you laid eyes on him, and he knows it too, so I am TELLING YOU ERIK you need to HANG HIM NOW. Until he dies, you’ll never find another omega, until he dies you won’t get him out of your head. I KNOW, ERIK.  
 **L:** For fuck’s sake, Emma, I’m not a dog. I can keep my brain out of my pants, I’m not going to start humping him like he’s the nearest bitch in heat.  
 **F:** Then damn well prove it. Let the sentence go through. Put him down, Erik. Or you’ll be next.  
[recording ends]


	2. Chapter 2

>xavier is seated at table / hands free / telepathic blocker crown surgically implanted  
>Lehnsherr enters with bodyguards  
>Lehnsherr dismisses bodyguards  
>l: tell me what i’m thinking, mr xavier.  
>[silence for 1 second]  
>l: i can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be for you without your abilities.  
>x: not so bad, mr president. you should try it. feel the insubstantial difference between us and humans.  
>l: i tried that once, as a child. it was a terrible time.  
>x: so you were born human after all.  
>l: yes, as we are all born human. as we are born unable to walk and shitting ourselves.  
>x: and do you kill people for shitting themselves?  
>l: you think this government kills people for not being mutants? we never have. if humans have died, they were criminals. or traitors.  
>x: is that what your courts will convict me of? treason? is that what my execution record will read?  
>l: they are your courts, too. or do you deny even that you are genoshan?  
>x: i am genoshan. i will die a true genoshan.  
>l: you will die as a dog.  
>[silence for 1 second]  
>x: don’t let’s do this. i know why you’re here.  
>l: oh?  
>x: you needed to see me. speak to me. to be sure i’m yours  
>[Lehnsherr pushes rises quickly / gesticulates / metal table clatters]  
>l: you are a parasite to me, nothing more  
>x: you think i find this any easier?  
>l: how long have you known?  
>x: a very long time, my president. i saw you in the victory parade when i was only seventeen. you rode in the car beside the late commander. i knew then. i thought… i had such different wants then. i dreamed of standing beside you.  
>[Lehnsherr breaths heavily]  
>x: i thought i was in love with you. biology is a tease.  
>l: i feel nothing for you.  
>x: you needn’t be afraid. the initial rush will pass, as it did for me. i am not in love with you. it was instincts and the ghost of evolution. now when i see you i see only the tyrant who butchered the dukes park protesters with his new einsatzgruppen-  
>[Lehnsherr strikes xavier across the mouth]  
>l: we have only ever punished the guilty!  
>x: [silence 2 seconds / touching bloody lip]  
>x: then i deduce that i am guilty, mr president  
>[Lehnsherr leaves room]  
>[prison guards enter / forcibly bind xavier / he is removed from room]  
>  
>select recording at this frame for action?  
>command: delete recording?  
>error: credentials rejected / user FROST cannot edit this recording  
>admin name: [AZAZEL] password: *********  
>command: delete recording?  
>Y

 

_God made alphas One-Two-Three_  
God made 'megas Aye-Bee-Cee  
But you don't know what you will be  
Until you're grown up just like me 

_God made bonded Bee and Two_  
They were married strong and true  
God made bonded Three and Aye  
They had children bright as day 

_But God forgot poor Cee and One_  
Cee caught the plague so One had none  
There's 'megas out there she could take  
But she's alone for God's mistake 

\- Children's clapping rhyme, originated circa. 1810

 

_Excerpts from interviews with Deputy Lance "Avalanche" Petrakis, officer of the Civil Peace Unit from 1966 - 1973_

"That year was a weird one, wasn’t it? But just before it started getting weird, everything was… glorious, I guess you’d call it. I was a rookie then, I didn’t have anyone left I gave two ticks about. I joined the corps because I loved my country and I wanted a chance to use my powers to break some human legs. I guess the second part’s why they stuck me in the Peace Unit.

"You gotta understand. In those days, it was just so obvious that things were wrong because of the humans. There’d been that bombing by the CIA, back in ’63. And of course it was just under a decade since the human extremists poisoned President Shaw – yeah I know the conspiracy theories about how it was his own cabinet, but that’s all bull, everyone knows it was humans. So the hate was still raw, even though most of us had been just kids or younger during the War of Secession. Humans, they were trouble man, you just knew it. And all the traitors who helped them, they were trouble too. Worse, because they were doing it against their own kind. So the lieutenants would point us in the right direction and we’d hunt, man, we’d get our hands on any human who so much as looked at us funny. And any damn mutant who shopped at human stores or gave way to humans on the sidewalk. And if we couldn’t get a hold of them, we’d get their omega or their kids or their cousins – didn’t matter. People had to learn. And these were criminals, or friends of criminals, or parents of criminals. We were just protecting our cities.

“The first time it started to get weird was when humans and collaborators who were on our lists started disappearing before we picked them up. I’m talking within an hour of the order being given – they’d be there one day, gone the next. Some we’d catch later, in another traitor’s nest, but a lot got away to other cities with new names and some I guess went over the border to the camps. That was our first indication that whatever resistance was brewing, it was getting organised. And it meant mutants were helping the criminals – fucking scum, man, how could they?

“One night we caught this family of humans as they were going out the back, and we chased them. There were two others in dark clothes who were helping them. They went in all directions, and we got turned around in someone’s back garden, and I ended up chasing one of these dark-clothed folks who was haring it out of there with the two teens. Anyway, I find my whole squads gone after the other group and it’s just me chasing these three, and I corner them at this wire school fence. The kids start climbing, but I’m Avalanche and I shake them down as easy as anything. And then – I remember this guy in black turning to look at me, but I could never remember his face – next thing I know, the rest of the squad turns up. And my prey is gone. Whole ten or twenties minutes of my life, just gone.

“I’m hopping mad and pretty embarrassed, but my captain, he gets real interested and wants all the details. When I tell him what little I know, he nods and gets on the radio as we head back. ‘It was target X,’ he says to the command centre, 'he was right here, he's definitely a mind wiper of some sort.' First time any of us had heard that, 'Target X'. Wouldn’t be the last, of course.

“We started having to wear blockers after that. There’s never enough to go round and they’re damn uncomfortable and look stupid as all hell. No one liked wearing them. But they said there were traitor telepaths who could control your mind, and that freaked us out. 

A few months later we get sent out on what we thought was a routine raid, late in the evening, but once we’ve got our blockers on the orders suddenly get switched out for sealed envelopes and everyone starts to feel this contagious tension. Something big is going on. And there’s two other squads, all with blockers, each with their own orders – they were covering various exit routes, as it turned out.

“We bust into this attic in a big old town house, in a rich-snob area where all the gardens have spiked fences around them. The house turned out to be owned by some mutant businessman, Worthington or something, boy I don’t even want to know what happened to him. They’d been moving the lessons around every week – school lessons for human kids, see. They weren’t supposed to be getting schooling beyond ten, or be able to do more than basic arithmetic or any history. But these idiots, they were teaching ‘em and training ‘em up to become a new generation of bombers and criminals. Idiots. Don’t they know humans are just trouble by nature?

“So we got him. The telepath, the X whose name even the heads of Peace Unit hadn’t known until a day or two before that raid. There were two other mutants with him, one who was caught inside the house and another trying to get some of the kids out the back. We brought them all in that night, though the other two traitors were separated and taken straight to the cells. I don’t know what happened to the human brats. But I remember that night real clearly, the celebrating and high-fiving as they pulled Xavier out of the van and into the command centre. They’d roughed him up a bit, and he didn’t look like much to start with, all floppy hair and a school-teacher vest. But man, that rush you get when you hear a fist hitting flesh, when you see the blood. When you know you’re blameless because the bastard’s a traitor, a sick-headed rat who’s been rotting everything Shaw tried to build.

“Everyone had to have their blockers on, of course, and I know a couple of guys got thrown out until they went and found a spare set to wear. But apart from that it was a damn party. The traitor’s just being pushed around a bit, since our orders were to deliver him mostly undamaged. Suddenly someone yells that the President’s coming and I can feel the faintest hum through the metal table under my hand. The whole place snaps to attention like someone’s yanked their dicks. And in he comes. Magneto.

“When he walks in, you always forget that he’s just another mutant like us, because when he’s in a room he might as well fill it like the brightest light. Everyone is looking at him, even the telepath traitor. And the President looks back at the traitor, and then – then he just walks out again. Everyone’s not really sure what just happened, but we can all hear the President talking real quiet out in the corridor. Azazel, who was in charge of the prisons then, had come and left with him. That’s who he was talking to, I guess. The next thing, there’s orders to get the prisoner set up somewhere and no more joking around. Get the men back in order. We’re all a bit confused, because we thought we’d done a damn good job, a damn dangerous job, and deserved a bit of a slap on the back. We all got a pay bonus, but not the medals we were hoping for.

"The next day the raid was all over the papers, but it wasn't the confetti and parade we'd hoped for. Turns out this rat was a high school teacher uptown. Real popular with the kids of a lot of powerful mutant families. Somehow word had got round that he'd been taken into custody, and the bullshit was already flying. The parents wouldn't believe he was a criminal, and those that did believe it were actually going out in public and _debating_ whether humans deserved education or not. Apparently he wrote articles for the Genoshan Tribune, and he'd been making crazy anti-patriot claims for a long time. Everyone was talking about it. Like he didn't deserve a bullet in the back of the head. Like he was _worth listening to._

"We should have executed him that week. But they say the president kept that traitor alive for almost a year. The execution was eventually on the news, because it'd been so long. Lots of people said he must have used his telepathy to control the president. There were even rumours he'd tricked Magneto into bonding with him, that there might have been children. I don't know what to make of that. It's no doubt human propaganda. Magneto would never lower himself to even touch a criminal like that.

"I don't know. That's just what I heard."

 

**Typed Confession leading to Conviction, Prisoner #719, dated 10-August-1967, PROPERTY OF CENTRAL PRISON ARCHIVES, DO NOT REMOVE**

_I confess to collaboration with human enemies of the state, to training enemies of the state, to treason and conspiring towards terrorism. I confess to inciting anarchy against the law and against social order. I confess to aiding and abetting criminal activities including battery, prevention of the arrest of criminals, arson and disorderly conduct. I confess to assault and battery of a Civil Peace Unit officer. I confess to using my mutant abilities unlawfully against other mutants, including mind control over Armando "Darwin" Munoz, Alex "Havoc" Summers, and Warren "Angel" Warrington (III)._

_I am aware that treason and mind control of other mutants constitutes a capital crime. I confess openly, of my own will. I rescind the right to a trial, the right to consult with a lawyer, and the right to appeal against this sentence._

_Signed,_

_ Charles Francis Xavier _

[Prison records show that Mr Muñoz, Mr Summers and Mr Warrington were released with misdemeanour charges and supervisory requirements shortly after this confession was submitted. However, Mr Muñoz and Mr Summers each have a considerable criminal record dating post this release.]

 

 

 _Property of the Genoshan Presidential Archives_ _CLASSIFIED – DO NOT COPY ___

I do not think the administration will allow the following memoirs to be made public. I expect they will be destroyed as soon as I am dead, if indeed I do not destroy them myself before then. But I need to put the record straight in my own mind, at least. The memories I recount were formed more than two decades ago, but Emma has helped me to refresh them for the short periods of time I need to write it all down.

In the beginning I saw it as an attack. A threat on my one constant love, which was for mutantkind, for my nation. It took me a long time to learn that I could accommodate Charles and Genosha.

My cabinet had set a deadline for the presidential pardon. I was to make a decision by the 1st of September. This was 1967, the year we started cracking down on human education and resistance. The anger of a few antisocial mutants was no surprise, but to me at least, it was still disappointing. Nevertheless, I was fully prepared to take whatever action was necessary to quell the illegal actions of fraternisers. It was vitally important that the public see my resolve in this matter as uncompromising. Stories of the deeds of Target X spread rapidly after his arrest, and I could ill-afford to give his followers any encouragement by leaving him alive, even isolated from the media.

But as the 31st of August approached, I could not give up the possibility of a presidential pardon. I told myself there was too great a risk that his execution would become a rallying point for opposition. He had been on death row for just over three months by this stage, and I had spoken to him only once. It was not enough for me.

That last night, I sent for Azazel, whom I knew was loyal to me, and had prisoner #719 transferred to my private quarters. I let him make up his own mind about that. Perhaps Emma had let slip the true nature of my dilemma to him, perhaps not. He did not question me.

The truth was I just needed to speak to him. I intended nothing more. I intended to dismiss the rumours of a pardon the next morning. I intended for him to be hanged by sunset of the 1st. 

So many good intentions.

He was on the embroidered sofa in the suite when I arrived back from a scheduled meeting with my generals. He looked well, considering the months in prison. There had been a need to keep him looking well, of course, given that it might be necessary to record the execution and leak it later if there was any question he was really dead. His hair, shaved for the implantation of the blocker crown into his skull, had grown long over the device so that nothing of it could be seen except a bulge beneath the exposed skin of his temples. The orange prisoner’s jumpsuit jarred against the muted red and grey décor of my rooms. The guards excused themselves as I strode in; Azazel had put him in metal cuffs, so I was in no danger. 

“Have you eaten?” I asked, taking off my gloves. It had been cold in the street, and I had walked from the government buildings. I liked to see the city at night. 

“No, Mr President,” he answered. He didn’t move from where he had arranged himself comfortably on the sofa, one leg propped up beside him. His eyes did not leave me once as I went to the phone and ordered fruit, cold meats and tea to the rooms. 

“So,” I settled myself on the couch opposite him, one legged crossed over the over. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.”

“Not really,” he said, as if this was some progress report over a project we shared. Perhaps that was what he considered it to be. The project being the entire of Genosha, of course. 

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I _am_ a mind reader.”

“Not anymore.”

“Alright, I am a schoolteacher then,” he shrugged.

“No, you are a prisoner with a very short sentence,” I reclined my arms back behind the sofa. “But tell me, why do you think you’re here?”

My comment had silenced him for a moment, but he kept his composure. “I initially thought this would be nothing but the satiation of your loins before my execution,” he said, a little derisively. “But no – you’re too conservative, blood is too important to you. You would not want the slightest risk that I could go to the gallows pregnant.”

I inclined my head a little. “You think rather highly of my self-control.”

“I have had many years to study you, Mr President. If you were a debauchee, I would know about it by now.”

“If you say so,” I waved my hand. “So why? Why are you here?”

He glanced me up and down. “You have never been bonded before. You’re afraid it will never happen again.”

Not a single muscle in my body moved. My breath was caught in my throat. I managed to swallow at last, and speak clearly. “That is quite an assumption. If you know me so well, you would know I have taken many omegas-”

“You know that’s not what I said.”

I cleared my throat. Before I could form a response, there was the knock of the food I’d ordered arriving. I got up and took it myself so that the server didn’t see into the room. I placed it on the coffee table between us. 

“Where would you be, if you could be anywhere tonight?” I asked. I saw his eyes flick to the plates in front of us and gestured at them. “Eat, please.”

He peeled himself away from the sofa and took a little cheese and bread, then gave in and ate ravenously. I suppose prison food is not much to write home about. When he had slowed down, I pressed, “Well?”

“With my sister,” he said, licking persimmon juice off his thumb. 

“I didn’t know you had any family in Genosha.”

His gaze shot up to meet mine. After a moment he answered, “Not on record, no.”

“According to record, you abandoned your human family and joined the Mutant Free Army at fifteen, but your gifts were considered too undeveloped to have directly military application. You were placed into training for almost three years, but the War of Secession finished before you saw combat. You entered university a year later, were expelled four years after that, and dishonourably discharged from the reserve army after failing to attend regular training exercises. You were hired as a schoolteacher two years later, despite no formal education in teaching. Did you use that remarkable brain to push a few thoughts around?”

“I would never-” he bit back the anger quickly. “No.”

I poured myself a cup of tea, stirred in the milk slowly. “So we both know more about each other than most couples entering a marriage,” I smiled and held up my cup to toast to that. When he didn’t answer, I sipped and asked, “And what would you be doing with your sister, if you were with her?”

He’d been staring at his hands, but now he looked at me again. “I was partway through telling her a story when I was arrested. I would finish telling her that story.”

He watched me. After a moment he asked. “Would you like to hear it?”

 

My name is Wanda Darkolm & red is my favourite color.  
I live wiht my anty Raven & my uncle Hank & my brohter Pietro. We hav to write waht our parents do at work but I do’nt have parents.  
My anty told me a good story yestaday about my uncle Charles.  
When Charles was in the army he woud do pranks on people & his freind Alex woud help. 1 day wen it was very snowy they were watching the fence between Genosher & Canader. they wanted to get home fast so they told ther boss they were doing a prank on some people at ther camp & ther boss thort it was funny so he let thm go. But they were relly going home bcos it was cold. they took a shortkut becos they did not want any one to see them & ther was some of the Canader army in the forest. Charles hid from the Canader army but ther was nowher for Alex to hide but Charles was a tellypath so he made the army not see Alex. But then the army stopped!!! & Alex coudnt move becos the tellypathey woud not work good if he moved they were both STUCK wiht lots and lots of Canader humans everywhere!!

 

Charles paused. He seemed to be looking at the window behind my head. The clock tower above the town hall was striking midnight. I’d had no idea it was that late. 

“Well?” I asked, leaning forward over my knees. “What happened? How did you get away?”

Charles sat in the corner of the sofa with his legs curled under him. “I’m very tired,” he said, in a voice like the slow lap of the turning tide. “If I don’t go back soon the block will be closed for the night, and I’ll be made to sleep on a cold floor in the holding cells.”

I scrubbed my chin with my hand. I almost said, ‘but you can sleep on this couch’, but no – too many people would see us the next day, too many questions would be asked. Besides, I was not quite in such throes of dilemma that I would go to bed with an enemy, however well-cuffed, in the room next door. 

“Very well,” I said, standing up. “I’ll have you returned to the cells at once.”

He looked back at me as Azazel led him away, and I felt the biological pull stronger than ever. I think he was waiting for me to say something – to tell him my decision about the presidential pardon. It was incredibly cruel to make him wait through the night without knowing. 

But the truth was I had no answer yet.


	3. Chapter 3

_Excerpts from the diary of Professor Maurice Kinross [b. May 8, 1896 – d. June 9, 1945], Head of Biological Research, United States Defence Department_

February 3rd, 1945  
…the boy was brought in today, flown from the camps in Germany. I have seen such terrible photos, read the reports, heard the rumours of the experiments they were doing. He is well fed and unmarked, but for months-old scars and a weak wrist, but in his eyes I see the confirmation of it all. I asked myself, why are they bringing me this boy? Does he carry some secrets of Nazi science? I admit I am a coward, not a soldier, I do not want to hear about these cruelties from a child’s mouth.  
But the agents, with their suits and hooded looks, they said wait – see what this boy brings us. He is a demure kid, speaks little more than basic conversational English, but I think he understands a lot more than they realise. He asked them to leave, so he could show me and my technicians alone. And then he raised his hand and… Good Lord, the table, my pen, our watches… a million years of evolution concentrated into this child’s small frame…

February 10th, 1945  
…The tests with dear Erik are progressing at an incredible rate. We have arranged for tutors too, to improve his English and French, try and give him all the years of basic education lost to him in the war…

March 19th, 1945  
…I have tried to learn if there are others like him, if he has cousins, or if he knew of others in the Nazi laboratories. There are these new whispers, the ‘Mutant Free Army’. All I’ve heard suggests these are men and women with similar abilities. But their ambitions are frightening; we all thought we had the Axis on the ropes, and now this new and stranger threat... but Erik is reluctant to speak of those times, reluctant to speak of anything before he came here to the University. Understandable. I have gleaned that he lost his parents to that brutal regime. My wife and I have two daughters, but I wonder if perhaps, when I can convince the board our concepts are firm and there is no more proof we need from him… he is such a delicate boy, and our home is large and warm…

April 27th, 1945  
I have applied for funding to complete an intense search for American mutants. Very important men have read of our work with Erik – though he is anonymous, of course – and the reports of the MFA’s continued growth. I understand that scores of otherwise loyal civilians had vanished in unusual circumstances, suspected to be either kidnapped by the MFA or to have defected to them voluntarily. I am so glad that dear Erik is under our watch. Our research facility is nigh impregnable, and only the new pentagon has better security.

June 1st, 1945  
…Next week we will display to three top generals the full extent of Erik’s power; once they see what he can do, we will get the funding we need…  
The MFA have invaded Nova Scotia, claiming peaceful occupation. Whether they would dare attack us I don’t know, but I heard at a dinner party last night that the states plan to aid Canada in driving them out. The last thing we need is another enemy.

June 9th, 1945  
I rose early this morning, unable to contain my thrill at the day to come. Science should never be a pursuit of glory or showmanship, only knowledge for the good of humanity, but if we must be gaudy then I intend to do my utmost. Erik has been living at my home this past month, and was clearly excited during breakfast. My youngest, Moira, teased him rather mercilessly, but I know they have formed a fast friendship and she means well. How his eyes widened when I told him I had received a telegraph warning me that the Secretary of State would be in attendance! And once it is all over, Erik’s work with us will be done and he can leave our facility for the last time, to become a regular child attending a regular school, not to be pushed from the labs of one superpower to another any longer.  
I shall report the results of today’s display when I get home tonight. 

[This is the final entry in Professor Kinross’ Diary]

 

_Front page of the New York Times, 10th of June 1945:_

**MUTANTS DECLARE WAR  
MASSACRE AT IVY LEAGUE LAB**

The Mutant Free Army yesterday evening declared itself a free nation and announced its intention to perpetrate war on Canada and the United States. Led by the self-proclaimed Commander Shaw, the government is still struggling to determine a course of action given the considerable Canadian populace still living in the East Coast region that the MFA occupies. President Truman publically spoke of his utter contempt for what he called “a barbaric force of deviants and deserters, a patchwork of the worst scum of society”. 

The declaration came hours after a horrific attack on American soil, centred in the University of Columbia, which has killed Secretary of State Edward Stettinius, as well as two generals and at least two dozen more members of their security and staff of the university. No official death toll has been released and current reports are that at least three other prominent officials have been seriously wounded. Professor Maurice Kinross, head of biological defence research and head of the mutant project, was also killed. A spokesmen for the defence department stated that there are “strong indications” that the attack was a deliberate forerunner of Shaw’s declaration of war. 

The group were reportedly at the university to witness a display of experimental weaponry from a research group working with mutants. Current speculation is that one of the mutants was a spy planted by Shaw deep in the American defences, who had orders to assassinate as many members of cabinet as possible. Reports are that the mutant in question, whose identity has not and may never be determined, escaped the massacre with federal forces in hot pursuit, but was quickly extracted by fellow mutants and is likely to have returned to Shaw’s central headquarters by today. 

“This attack was clearly planned many months in advance,” the spokesman said. “Shaw has been playing a long game for a long time. The mutant who carried out the massacre was a single individual loyal to him who was waiting for his signal to begin a war.” 

 

 

_”Genosha is family / Genosha is love”_

\- Propaganda leaflet distributed in New York during the War of the Secession, encouraging closeted mutants to join the MFA

 

 

_Property of the Genoshan Presidential Archives_  
 _CLASSIFIED – DO NOT COPY ___

__I couldn’t make a decision on the 1st of September. I told my cabinet that Xavier’s popularity made it too dangerous to execute him at his delicate time. I said, Let him fester in prison until the scaremongers and gossip rags move on to the next celebrity. I preferred to look ambivalent than tyrannical, especially now, when all eyes were watching the careful excision of humans from Genosha._ _

__They weren’t happy, but it had been a long time since anyone had challenged me on my own territory. And dealing with humans was definitely something I had a lot of experience with._ _

__The day dragged. The meetings were finally over, and though I had paperwork and reports to read, it was late enough that I could dismiss my retinue. When the words in front of my eyes started to blur I told myself to go to bed. But instead I called Azazel and had him bring prisoner #719 directly to my quarters. No one else was to know._ _

__“You look tired,” I said, when Azazel had left us alone. I’d ordered food in advance this time, but he didn’t even look at it. His arms lay prone across his lap and his expression was slack._ _

__“I didn’t sleep,” he said, the explanation of why heavy in his tone._ _

__I didn’t relieve his fears. Callous of me? Perhaps. I had little compassion for my enemies in those days._ _

__“I want to hear the rest of your story,” I said, with the closest I had to a reassuring smile (razor-edged, not reassuring at all). “But if you’re too tired, I’ll call for Azazel-”_ _

__“No,” he leaned forward a little. “No, I’ve worked full schooldays on less sleep.”_ _

__I had been pouring myself a glass of wine, but now my eyes flicked up to meet his. He didn’t renounce the implication that this was a lesson. I gestured towards the second glass, and he nodded, and got up to fill a napkin of food. Once I’d poured him a glass and he was seated again, I put the bottle down on the table._ _

__“Well?” I sipped. “You and Alex were trapped by Canadian forces on the border, if I remember.”_ _

__He smiled fondly into his glass. “We were in constant contact, of course, my telepathic voice in his head and his thoughts in mine. I remember he kept up a near-constant stream of swearing. He knew the limits of my illusions at that time, and could shift only a little to avoid being trod on by the soldiers. They had stopped right in the clearing where he was standing and were setting up camp. I couldn’t believe our misfortune. And making all twenty-something minds forget Alex’s presence, all at once – it was at the absolute limit of my powers.”_ _

__He nibbled at the fruit and cheese, and then continued. “We stayed like that for hours. We were both soldiers, we’d both been trained to stand to attention for that long. I was in fact lying on a bank of snow above the clearing, hidden by low branches of the pines, and that perhaps was my biggest mistake. I stayed there unmoving, getting colder and colder, and gradually hypothermia began to set in. I was so focused on Alex that I barely noticed it. But of course, one symptom of hypothermia is confusion, hallucinations.”_ _

__“No,” I laughed. “You didn’t.”_ _

__“Oh, yes. I had no idea I was beginning to broadcast my disorientation. The soldiers began to realise that something was wrong. They thought there was something in the trees, something hunting them. They started seeing shapes and hearing noises, and their fear fed back to me no matter how I tried to stay calm. Panic began to spread. Alex was trying desperately not to bump into them, and then finally, when there was complete disorder, he decided enough was enough._ _

__“He broke out of the range of my illusion and made a run for it. The Canadian soldiers were such a mess they didn’t even recognise the foreign uniform. He made it up the bank, grabbed me and we ran for it. It for six miles through the snow back to base camp, in pitch darkness, but Alex’s abilities kept us from freezing._ _

__“When we finally stumbled home we had been missing for almost six hours. And since we were supposed to be on patrol, our superiors had been convinced we’d been killed by an advancing troop of Canadian scouts. We’d nearly started an international incident. But luckily we had one other partner in crime – our Lieutenant, who’d let us go home early on the pretence of playing a friendly trick on one of his fellow officers. He couldn’t tell our superiors that, of course. So just before we arrived he pretended the whole situation was his fault, that he’d been sick of our horsing around and ordered us on a sweep of the forest, deliberately sending us on a route that we’d get lost along. He caught most of the rap, poor fellow.”_ _

__He had finished the wine while he’d been talking. I poured him another glass and said, “Remarkable.”_ _

__“Thank you,” from where he sat, Charles waved his hand and executed a small bow. Before I had a chance to speak again, he raised his head. “Would you like to hear another one?”_ _

__“Another story?”_ _

__“Yes. I could tell you about my sister, and how I smuggled her into Genosha.”_ _

__I paused with a grape halfway to my mouth. For a moment the silence creaked between us and caught a twitch in his eyes, as he feared he’d overplayed his hand. But then I shrugged. “Alright.”_ _

__

__22nd of September, 1967_ _

___Office of the President_  
Cabinet Building 6  
1 Shaw Street East  
CBD  
Genosha City 

__Mr President,  
I am aware of your orders to provide prisoner #719 with whatever he asks for (save that which might be useful for an escape attempt), but I have become concerned with some of the items recently delivered to his cell. Specifically: 1 Typewriter (manual), 1 ream of paper weekly and 1 ink ribbon monthly. Please advise as to whether these items should remain in his possession. I contact you directly only because you have previously asked for discretion concerning prisoner #719._ _

__Yours mutant and proud,  
Azazel_ _

__

__FROM THE DESK OF THE PRESIDENT OF GENOSHA  
23rd of September, 1967_ _

___Central Prison_  
405 Ends Road  
Hammer Bay  
Genosha City 

__Re: prisoner #719: items should remain in his possession, continue deliveries as requested._ _

__Mutant and Proud,  
Magneto_ _

__

__

_Property of the Genoshan Presidential Archives_  
 _CLASSIFIED – DO NOT COPY ___

____Charles took the second glass and settled himself comfortably back against the pillows. “As you already know, I joined the MFA when I was fifteen. My family comes from old money, and we lived outside New York – my mother, stepfather, stepbrother, and a parentless shapeshifter I had convinced them to take in as a foster-child. They didn’t know she was a mutant, of course. When Shaw was pushing through Massachusetts, my mother wanted to take us all to Washington, and I decided my destiny lay in the opposite direction. Using my powers it was disturbingly simple to hitch rides on whatever army trucks were heading towards the front line._ _ _ _

____“I was young and disillusioned by humanity, but I couldn’t bring myself to make my mother believe her only child was dead. Before I left I went into the minds of my entire family and tweaked their memories of me; I replaced myself with my sister. My mother believed she’d always had a daughter, not a son. My sister was the only one who knew the truth, but she was barely thirteen, and I told her it would be safer to stay with my family. I promised her that once I knew what the MFA and the dream of Genosha was all about, I would either return or bring her to join me._ _ _ _

____“For months the war raged with increasing intensity. You will remember it wasn’t safe even in the heart of the then-unsanctioned nation. But eventually, as we heard stories of American mutants being hunted down, lynched or forced into the army by the United States government, I decided it would be safer for my sister behind our lines than in the heart of a country that hated her. You will know, of course, that at that time family members of MFA soldiers – human and mutants alike – were welcomed in Genosha, and could be given help to escape if they needed it. I put in a request for her to be extracted if possible. I was prepared for her to be low priority, since she was living far from the border, hidden in relative safety, and since as her sponsor I had not yet served in action and held no special sway. What I did not expect was for my application to be rejected._ _ _ _

____“I learned that my sister, with her shapeshifting abilities and her home in the human capital, was too valuable as a spy. Instead of being extracted, she’d be offered great rewards in Genosha in return for serving as an MFA agent for at least three years. All this was carried out above my head, of course. I was only told that she could not be brought over the border yet. I figured it out only by illicitly reading my superior’s minds._ _ _ _

____“I was terrified for her safety. I knew how rare and exploitable her power was. I knew the MFA would put her in terrible danger if it meant getting deep intel.”_ _ _ _

____“Were you so sure she would take the deal?” I interrupted, genuinely curious._ _ _ _

____“My sister had been surviving on her wits since nine years old, when her parents discovered her abilities and threw her out of their home,” he frowned. “Oh yes, she’d take their deal. She is one of the bravest people I know, and she hated that I had left her behind in the human world. She’d do anything to reach Genosha. But she was not even fourteen.”_ _ _ _

____“I was barely fourteen when I killed humans for the first time,” I said lightly._ _ _ _

____That made him start. For a moment he paused, lips open only a little, waiting for me to explain such an act away. Or trying to read my mind through the blocking crown, perhaps. Neither route would get him an excuse from me. I had never regretted my actions._ _ _ _

____After a long while, he licked his lips. “You know, thank you for the wine,” he drained the last mouthful and smiled. “I think it will at last give me the chance to sleep. Would you summon my warden to take me back to my cell?”_ _ _ _

____“You haven’t yet told me how you got your sister out of Washington.”_ _ _ _

____“Tomorrow night,” he said, yawning and sitting up to stretching from wrists to the base of his spine, joints popping. Until that moment I had forgotten completely that our biological urges had so inconveniently bound us together. The sight of him, lean and lengthy under the shapeless orange jumpsuit, made a hot wave of lust surge from my groin. I gritted my teeth against it._ _ _ _

____“Very well. Tomorrow night.”_ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

_Genoshan Tribune, 6th of December 1968:_  
 **Xavier papers to be restricted**

Conservatives have called it a "sinister terrorist manifesto", but the cabinet last night announced its decision not to place the controversial Xavier papers, a currently untitled body of work by convicted dissenter Charles Xavier, on their banned book list. It is still not known how Xavier, who was executed five months ago for treason, smuggled the book out of his maximum-security prison cell before his death. The work made headlines last week after Alex Summers, a known anti-government activist and friend of Xavier, was shot dead trying to take a copy across the Canadian border - ostensibly to have it published on mass and sold back to the Genoshan public. A police investigation concluded that Summers was warned multiple times before he was shot, and that his actions were "nothing but a greedy attempt to profit from the public's fear and hype" over the book’s content. Privately produced copies are being sold on the black market for up to nine hundred dollars but the ruling will open the gates for local commercial publication.

A government spokesman said banning the book would only encourage publicity and speculation. The official censorship board has surveyed it and, after consultation with President Magneto, believe it is inflammatory but not illegally offensive. Their report, released to the press today, says the book is likely to "provoke debate" but that "most of its claims are empty or obviously invented by a highly imaginative mind". Sales of the book will still be restricted to those under 21 and it will remain illegal to read in schools.

 

_property of the Genoshan Presidential archives_  
 _CLASSIFIED - DO NOT COPY ___

__The third night, Charles looked like he had slept a little better. His shoulders were more relaxed, the wrinkles loosening from under his eyes, a smile played on his lips as he watched me come in. I suppose that concerned me a little - they say there's nothing more dangerous than a smiling telepath._ _

__"Good day, sir?" he asked with a nod._ _

__"Magneto, please," I said, tossing my jacket over the back of the nearest chair and slumping over the sofa. I rubbed my eyes, feeling the aches of a long day begin mewl up my nerves._ _

__“Magneto,” he tipped his head back, cuffed hands entwined on his stomach. “That’s so formal, isn’t it? Can’t I call you by your…” he paused just before he could utter the dreaded _human_ , “…birth name?”_ _

__I held his gaze for a long stretch. "It's Erik," I said finally with a shrug, shifting forward to pour us each a glass. “Now, are you going to finish your story?”_ _

__“Ah, yes,” he took the proffered glass. “My sister on one side of the war, I on the other. The border had grown far too dangerous for her to cross on her own, even with her abilities. Besides, I was afraid the MFA would hold her accountable if she abandoned the missions they had set for her. So in the end it took almost two years for me to get her out – the war was almost over by then. And I improvised a lot of what happened. But it worked._ _

__“It started when I was required to work while not in training. The MFA had mutations diverse and wonderful as nature could provide, but brains and expertise were harder to come by. Why am I telling you this, you know this history,” he frowned and waved his hand. “Anyway, I was placed as a technician in a military tech unit, helping a brilliant Harvard graduate, let’s call him Harry. He was a genius in engineering, physics, all aspects of design, but very young – only fifteen, I think he escaped to Genosha before he’d even had his capping ceremony – and unsure of himself. I was his assistant but something of a morale crutch as well, and I’m afraid I took full advantage of that. Mostly the army wanted him to create specific machines to amplify or control the powers of certain mutants. I think he even designed the prototype for blocker crowns,” he tapped his temple where the repressor sat under his skin, “with myself as a curious test subject. He had ideas for more generally applicable technology – weapons and radios, emergency tools and vehicle modifications, but most of these were considered too ‘human’ for the funding board. But one day I noticed rough blueprints for the strangest plane I’d ever seen._ _

__“It was a jet, Harry explained, for recon missions. He reckoned it could hover for vertical take-off and landing, as well as having anti-radar capabilities. It was the perfect vehicle for retrieving my sister from the depths of Washington. The MFA at that time relied entirely on mutants for its recon – fliers and those with certain psychic powers or enhanced senses. I bullied Harry into making a stronger case for the jet, which could be operated by any mutant with a humanoid body.”_ _

__“Wait a moment,” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “The Blackbird. You’re talking about the Blackbird.”_ _

__“Yes, I believe that was what they eventually named it,” he smiled nonchalantly. “It all got over my head of course, very classified. The humans couldn’t know we had that kind of technology. They were the ones who were supposed to be relying on machines to extend their potential!”_ _

__“But the Blackbird practically won us the war,” I shook my head. “Without it we couldn’t get the info we needed to be truly organised, to make key strikes in the allies’ forces. You’re telling me you catalysed its design just to rescue your sister?”_ _

__“I simply laid down a couple of stepping stones for Harry’s success,” Charles inclined his head. “I still had to figure out a way to turn the jet into a rescue vehicle.”_ _

__“How?” I asked, my mouth still open a little in disbelief, my wine forgotten._ _

__"Not with telepathy, I promise you," he smiled._ _

__

__

___Dear Diary,_  
Today I lerned something that is AWFUL. Auntie Raven tells us stories about her brother Charles befor bed. Today at ~~scool~~ school Bobbie D had a book for us to see and my frend Johnny said it is written by a bad guy and told on Bobbie. Ms Jones took the book away. She said it was bad for kids because it tells us lies. It has lots and lots of lies about important people working for the ~~govam~~ ~~guverment~~ goverment. I went home and told Raven that Bobbie's parants are traitors and she said "why?" And I told her about the book. And she said that book was writting by her brother Charles and it's not lies. But Mrs Jones said it was. And that means Uncle Charles is the man that Johnny's parants said was the WORST TRAITOR in HISTORY. Auntie Raven won't listen to me! It is like she doesnt know that Uncle Charles was a bad guy! She wouldn't believe me when I told her and she made me go to my room for no reson! It's gross because he is part of my family and the teachers say genes are importint and that means I have his genes maybe. I don't know if there is a traitor gene.  
If I do have the traitor gene I shouldn't join the army because I might turn out to be a bad guy. Pietro and I were gonna join as soon as we turned 18. It's not fair!! 

__

__

_property of the Genoshan Presidential archives_  
 _CLASSIFIED - DO NOT COPY ___

____“Harry was a sweet young man, but terribly nervous in front of women. His mutation is,” Charles swept his hand across his face, “conspicuous. He was very self-conscious of his looks. I began to tell him about my sister, how she had a mutation that gave her a similar aesthetic, how she struggled for self-acceptance in the beauty-obsessed human world. The more I talked about her, the more I could see him falling in love with her. I never used my abilities, you understand. I just talked. And eventually, with input from various other researchers, the jet became more than just a sketch on a page. When it came time for the first long-range test flight, Harry volunteered. I suggested a mission into the most secure city close to the border, which was Washington D.C. Harry did not even need me to drop further hints. He talked to the right people – they were very pleased with him, and I’d been teaching him to speak more confidently – and they agreed that a rendezvous with an MFA spy in the city was a sly idea. Raven could hand over all the papers and photographs she’d collected recently on her missions at the same time. They didn’t intend her to actually leave her post, but – well, sometimes plans change on the fly, don’t they?_ _ _ _

____“After Harry left, for several agonising hours I waited. I convinced myself that my plots had got them both killed. I bit my nails until they bled. And then, just when I was falling asleep on the lab desk, the door opened and there was my precious sister. They’d been back for almost two hours, being debriefed. She claimed, and still does, that her cover was blown and coming back to Genosha with Harry was her only option. I didn’t care whether it was true or not, only that she was alive and home among her own kind, with her real family.”_ _ _ _

____He fell silent, gazing at his hands. I realised I’d had only a single sip of my wine and put it down. “What happened to them?”_ _ _ _

____“She and Harry left the MFA as soon as the war ended. We all muddled about for a while, me at University, Harry taking teaching jobs, my sister whatever work she could,” he shrugged. “Things became more… sensitive for me in the last couple of years, of course. Before my arrest I tried not to contact them unless absolutely necessary, but last I heard they were both safe and happy.”_ _ _ _

____I cut myself a slice of Genoshan-made Camembert and placed it on the oiled bread. "And yet you put the safety and happiness of humans above theirs," I said, sitting back on the couch._ _ _ _

____His eyes flashed in the warm lamplight as he glanced up. He didn't take the bait, however, countering with a question. "Which of your people do you love the most?"_ _ _ _

____"Say again?" I raised an eyebrow._ _ _ _

____"Your people. Which do you love the most? You can include traitors like myself, if you like."_ _ _ _

____"I love all mutantkind, even traitors," I said cautiously. "And even those who have chosen not to join Genosha."_ _ _ _

____"And if two of your citizens were in trouble, who would you help first?"_ _ _ _

____"Is one of them a child-"_ _ _ _

____"You don't know. It's a thought experiment, Erik, all you know is that they're both in trouble."_ _ _ _

____It was strange, hearing that name. I had been Magneto for so long. Only Shaw had called me by the name my mother gave me. Why had I even given it to Charles? I thought I could see the corner he was manoeuvring me into, but I walked into it freely. "I'd help whoever's need was most urgent."_ _ _ _

____"As would I. So you see," Charles leaned forward over his knees, steepling his fingers. "I think we disagree more on facts than on principles or ethics. I believe we sit on a continuum with humans, you believe we exist in separate spheres of family and obligation. If humans were your ‘people’ then you would help them because their need is more urgent, but they are not, so you don’t. However, this is not a philosophical question, but an empirical one. The question is, how do we 'prove' the hypothesis that humans and ourselves are different?"_ _ _ _

____"I suspect you are going to tell me," I said._ _ _ _

____"I'm going to tell you that we can't," Charles waved his hand to encompass the room at large as if the furniture were listening._ _ _ _

____"We have clear genetic superiority-"_ _ _ _

____"There is no human population where mutants do not appear, so our mutations are either _de novo_ or we are all descended from the same mutant ancestor. By necessity we have bred with humans so often since that hypothetical ancestor that there cannot be a distinction in the rest of our genome. We are not a race, Erik, or a species, but merely carriers of a single shared trait."_ _ _ _

____"Then our superiority is learned," I growled. "A social construct of our shared suffering. Our existence will never be tolerated by them. Don't argue about biology when the competition between us is insurmountable."_ _ _ _

____He sighed, and (not for the first time) I wanted to beat that arrogant look off his face. But I never would. It would only prove him right._ _ _ _

____"Would you like to hear another story?" he asked. "One that I used to tell my sister when she was little. About the hero Perseus whose mother was human and whose father was a God."_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____ _ _

_______> file encrypted_  
> user: FROST  
> password: **********  
> command: play file  
>  
> frost: good morning, mr xavier.  
> xavier: you’re looking lovely today, miss frost.  
> f: you can leave us, thank you azazel  
> [sound of door closing]  
> f: well. certainly a cosy prison. i suppose whores get it easy when they’ve got a king by the balls.  
> x: you overestimate me, miss frost. erik and i are friends, nothing more.  
> [silence for 1 second]  
> f: you have no right to call him that. you've no rights at all.  
> x: yet here i am, alive and healthy in my cosy cell.  
> f: not for much longer.  
> [silence for 1 seconds]  
> x: did you sort out the conjugal visit for me?  
> f: i did. one hour tomorrow afternoon. and if you dare to break your side of the bargain-  
>x: i won’t. i'll talk to erik next time he summons me. i'll make him see it’s for both our sakes.  
> f: and who’s the reckless fool who’s getting on our radar to visit you? you might as well tell me. i don’t intend to be napping when he walks through the prison doors.  
> x: he’s already on your radar. and he’s not reckless, he’s committed.  
> f: it’ll be mr summers then, i presume?  
> [silence for 2 seconds]  
> f: oh, charles – may i call you charles? – i haven’t survived thirteen years guarding two presidents by batting my eyelids. i have intel on every person you’ve so much as asked for the time in the last five years. including your sister, though you’ve kept her off the playing field quite successfully.  
> x: she has nothing to do with me or my cause. she's just trying to live her life.  
> f: i'm sure you’ve made her proud.  
> x: miss frost, you have nothing more to gain from me. i've agreed to everything you’ve asked. i swear, i'll follow your instructions to the letter.  
> f: and afterwards? when you’re back underground like the sewer rat you are, blowing up civil peace stations and painting your slogans on the walls of my city – what then? you won’t stay home and crochet. you'll be back, asking favours of my president, tempting him with your big blue eyes. and you’ll make sure your sister is safely hidden away, i'm sure – but you’ll still put her life and yours on the line to further the cause, won’t you? to drag erik down even deeper until his own cabinet turns on him for fucking a traitor? and a lying traitor at that. are you enjoying the little pantomine you’ve created, or does it make you sick every time he looks at you?  
> x: of course it doesn’t. he’s my alpha. i can’t help but feel for him.  
> f: you’re looking rather pale. did someone open a window in here? i feel a little chilly.  
> x: i have no idea what you’re talking about.  
> f: yes you do. you little parasite, i know. i know exactly what you’ve done.  
> x: you can’t tell him.  
> f: can’t i? i could walk out of here and ring him from the phone in the office and you'll he swinging on the gallows by dawn-  
> [sounds of movement]  
> x: miss frost, please! it'll destroy him. you’re a telepath, you understand! it will kill him! you think i’m not ashamed? i am! not for me, but for his sake, he cannot know!  
> f: then fix it.  
> x: i can’t- either way, it’s the same- i can’t do that to him-  
> [silence for 3 seconds]  
> f: my god.  
> x: please.  
> f: you’ve really bought your own con, haven’t you?  
> x: please!  
> [silence for 1 second]  
> f: here’s what’s going to happen. you're going to convince erik to let you go, and i will bring this sick plane crash of a relationship to a natural end. and you will never speak to the president again. do we understand each other?  
> x: yes.  
> f: good. and in case you think you can overpower me the moment you have your abilities back – i've recorded this entire conversation. the tape, and everything i know, will be in the hands of someone i trust. the moment you try to contact erik, that person will give him every filthy bit of laundry he needs to have aired.  
> x: i said yes. just leave me, please.  
> [sounds of movement]  
> [recording ends]  
>  
> command: delete recording?  
> N 

____ _ _

_property of the Genoshan Presidential archives_  
 _CLASSIFIED - DO NOT COPY ___

______I will not lie. I would never lie about something so basic to us; that year was the happiest of my life. I had vague memories of this, of company that was as easily a part of me as my own blood, that made me cold when we were seperated. But those memories were from early childhood. Between then and Charles there was only boots and broken-down doors, then mud and shaven heads, and then Shaw and steel and clutching to him as the only family left to me, and then the tearing confusion of a strange world and strange languages, and after that war and killing and war and politics and war and it was back to the boots and broken-down doors. But with me standing on the other side._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then came Charles, and everything was warm again._ _ _ _ _ _

______I told myself, again and again, that the cabinet would demand his execution sooner or later. Public outcry at his imprisonment had gone quiet. New scandals and celebrities had drawn their attention. The longer I left it, the safer it would be for him to die. But the later it grew, the less capable I felt of following through with my duty._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then one morning, in the summer of 1968, Azazel asked for a few moments of privacy with me. In an empty office below the government chambers, he held out a record sheet with a glaring red APPROVED stamp on it. I took it and scanned the details quickly. My head snapped up. I saw Azazel flinch._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You were going to allow this?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Azazel’s voice was low, but not as imperturbable as usual. “No, sir. Somehow it was approved without my consultation. I suspect a telepath’s involvement. But I’ve checked the blocker crowns on all prisoners-”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Emma,” I said. “She was at the prisons this morning. Wasn’t she?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes, sir,” Azazel hunched. He had a soft spot where my head of security was concerned, though I had never asked her if it was reciprocated._ _ _ _ _ _

______I scrubbed my hand across my jaw. “Bring #719 to me as usual.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Should I-”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Do nothing else until I tell you!” I snapped, and strode off. His titanium cufflinks spun on their axes._ _ _ _ _ _

______That evening, Charles was waiting for me when I got back, very late, from a celebratory dinner for favourable results in the latest polls. He was dozing on the pillows of my couch, legs hanging off the seat. He raised his head, blinking, as I flicked on the lights. For a moment I saw the scene as an outsider would have; the idiot, lovesick president letting a uniformed prisoner stay unwatched in his personal quarters. What a fool I had been._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Erik-” he started with a smile, but I had crossed the room before the discarded name was even out of his mouth. One hand wrapped around his throat and the other balled the collar of his faded jumpsuit and I shoved him down flat against the embroidered upholstery. My mind was buzzing like a dead radio channel, my knee and his suddenly pressed close together, more intimate than I had even once allowed myself to be in all the months we had sat together. And yet I felt only a sharp pain like a plunge into an icy lake._ _ _ _ _ _

______His eyes were relaxed, his lips opening to pull in a long, shuddering breath. I had lusted for that mouth every night since I’d first seen him. I loosened the hand around his throat._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You know,” he croaked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You think I wouldn’t find out? I do command _true_ loyalty from most of my men and women.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Emma told you,” he said dully, as if he was the one being betrayed. I could feel his ribcage moving under my knuckles._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No. Azazel.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He frowned then, one hand rising to touch the fingers around his throat, though not yet attempting to pry them off. I shook him once, his teeth clacking. “What the hell do you think you are? You think because I invite you in to tell bedtime stories, you are no longer a prisoner? You can enjoy whatever luxuries you can get your hands on? How dare you bring some traitorous whore into my prisons and call him your alpha? _I_ am your alpha!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He coughed, and I realised I had been squeezing that pale throat again. He reached up and touched my face, as if I wasn’t assaulting him. “Erik, it’s not what you think. Alex is a friend, nothing more. Please – let me go, Erik.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______I peeled my hand from his neck, but kept hold of his collar. My weight still pinned him down and dammit, I had never touched him, not once, and now the warmth and smell was enough to flush me – could I not even control my own body?_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I needed to smuggle something out. That’s all. We won’t engage in any other activity.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______I held his gaze. “Swear to me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I swear,” he gave a shaking laugh, but his expression looked ambiguously pained. “I’m yours, only yours.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“How the hell did you convince Emma to help you, then?” I pulled back a little, confusion making me all the angrier._ _ _ _ _ _

______“She offered me a deal. You know she doesn’t want me around, but a compromise-” he drew in a slow gasp. “I want you to have me executed.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_______”What?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

______“She has one or two men under her command that she trusts completely. They’ll interfere with the rigging of the gallows so the drop won’t even injure me. She’ll be present, she’ll make the physician see me as dead, and then she and her men will switch me out on the way to the crematorium. When Alex comes for the conjugal visit tomorrow, I’ll get him to arrange for someone to meet us and hand me back to my own people. We have a huge network, we can get a surgeon to remove the blocker crown and then I simply have to stay in hiding.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“For how long?” I asked. My tone was hollow._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Forever,” he said, blue eyes aligned with mine. “Erik, I can’t… it’s this or prison for the rest of my life, always waiting for the day they force your hand and you have to execute me for real…”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I will not allow this!” I bent my head, breaking his gaze._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Look at me,” he grasped my face in both hands. I’d let go of his collar, my palms pressed to his shoulders as if he was holding me up rather than I holding him down. “This is what’s best for both of us,” I could hear the crawl in his voice. “Put the order through first thing in the morning. Set the execution for tomorrow evening, before the papers hear about it and make a fuss.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s too soon. There has to be another way,” I shook my head, and felt his hands pulling me down._ _ _ _ _ _

______“These are the lives we’ve made ourselves,” he whispered into my mouth. And then I was tasting him, pressing him down, feeling him rise up to meet me when I pulled back to gasp a breath._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I want you,” he groaned into my mouth. “Now.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Somehow we got into my bedroom in an upheaval of bodies and limbs, trying not to part our mouths for more than a split second. By the time we reached the bed, he’d shed the jumpsuit without my being aware of anything more than the hum of a zip. He was naked underneath, and I kissed my way down that prison-weakened chest and took him in my mouth as he grabbed for the bedpost to keep his feet. I could hear him swearing quietly, though he’d never before uttered a single cuss in my presence._ _ _ _ _ _

______In the end he pulled me down, onto my back, and straddled my waist without even stripping me of my jacket, fumbling only to shove my trousers down far enough to unbutton my briefs. I wondered if he didn’t want to see me unsuited, if he couldn’t imagine me as less than the president, and then he was sinking down over me and I didn’t really care about how or why he wanted me._ _ _ _ _ _

______This was how it was supposed to be._ _ _ _ _ _

______We didn’t talk as we lay together afterwards. I was dozing, one arm under his shoulders, my only conscious thought to keep check on the room’s door handles. It would not do to be discovered like this. I needed the plausible deniability to say to the press and my cabinet and all the others who would ask in future, “We were nothing more than friends.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Erik,” he whispered. “I wish things were different.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______I had no real belief, in that moment, that we could be parted. That I would never have a chance to return his sentiments. That in less than twenty-four hours I would watch him hanging from a noose with a hood over his head, that that image would be the last I was ever given of him._ _ _ _ _ _

______But it has been four years now, and there has never once been so much as a hint that Charles Xavier lives. I still wonder sometimes if Emma could have tricked us both, if perhaps he is dead after all. Or maybe he made it back to his network of spies and anarchists only to drown crossing the border into Ohio or fall foul of some disagreement within the traitors’ ranks. I have never doubted, however, that he was the only omega I have ever truly wanted or will ever want._ _ _ _ _ _

______I will seal these records until after my death, or destroy them before then. I don’t yet know._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

___________16th of April 1986_  
Dear Diary,  
I don’t know what happened. It’s all mad, it’s all cracked, I don’t think I really believe it yet. We  
were just having dinner, and f*ing Pietro was having a row with Raven. Hank had gone upstairs  
to get lost in his damn work and pretend they weren’t fighting, like he always does. It was all  
so d*mn ordinary and I was just sitting poking my beans around my plate with my fork, and  
there’s a knock on the door. And Raven and Pietro are just about screaming at each other now,  
I don’t think they even heard it. So I got up and went to open it, I kind of hoped it was one of  
our neighbours, the nosy f*ers, so I could tell them to go stuff it up their a**.  
It wasn’t someone I knew. It was this woman, in a swanky white dress suit and perfect blonde  
hair, and there’s a long black limo sitting parked right up on the sidewalk.  
‘Wanda?’ the woman asks.  
Yeah,’ I said, or something like that.  
‘I’m from the government,’ she says, and my brain just pops, I nearly wet myself I’m so scared.  
Raven and Hank, they have all these friends who are activists and human-smugglers and the  
rest, and Pietro and I have been taught from the moment we could walk that if we see the Civil  
Peace Unit we get the hell out, don’t worry about our old Aunt and Uncle, just run. But then… I’m  
like, this woman doesn’t look like some f*ing b*stard Peace Officer. She looks way above that.  
Before I can think about what the sh*t I’m supposed to do, Raven’s hands are on me and pulling  
me away from the door and suddenly she shifts into this huge form, a bouncer in a button-down  
shirt.  
‘What the hell do you want?’ she asks the woman.  
‘Ms Darkholme,’ the woman says. ‘I’m Emma Frost, head of security for the president. I’d like you  
to step out of the way so I can speak to your daughter. Sorry, adopted daughter.’  
‘Get away from my child,’ Raven says, looking over this woman, and the woman looks at her and  
Raven just crumples, shifting back into her natural blue, her hands clutching her head. I can almost  
feel the telepathy rippling through the air and I beg her to stop.  
‘Emma,’ barks a new voice, and I think it’s familiar but I don’t know from where.  
The woman in white takes a small step back, and Raven jerks to her feet just as the man gets out  
of the limo and walks up the steps and Jesus F*ing Christ, it’s the f*ing president. What the f*k am  
I supposed to do? I just stand there with my mouth open, and Pietro’s come up behind me and is  
doing pretty much the same, and I reach back and grab his hand. He clings to it tight, and f*k, he’s  
not the sort of guy who ever admits he’s scared.  
‘You know who I am,’ he says to Raven. ‘So let us in before I’m spotted.’  
‘You’re not taking them!’ Raven shrieks, honestly  shrieks, and she normally drops an  
octave when she’s fighting with Pietro. I can smell pheromones in the air and I realise Raven is  
shedding them as a warning, an animal instinct, because she’s the alpha of the house and someone  
is threatening her family. But there’s no reciprocal scent from Magneto. He isn’t challenging her,  
not properly. He doesn’t need to, I guess.  
‘So it’s true,’ he says, and his face gets this look like the one he wears in the election posters, above  
the tagline **STAND WITH ME, STAND WITH MUTANTKIND**. I thought that look was all  
artist’s embellishment, but it’s not, the f*er really has it in his facial compendium. “I only want to  
speak to them, Ms Darkholme. Let us in. If I take them, I promise you it will not be tonight.”  
Raven lets them in, but once she has them at the table – the president, sitting at Hank’s spot at the  
g*dd*mn dinnertable, while Hank stands awkwardly in the doorway with clearly no idea what’s  
going on – she tells me and Pietro to go upstairs. Pietro tries to argue but she gives him this _look_ ,  
and we both go. And then of course we come right back down to listen at the door as soon as Raven  
closes it behind us.  
The first thing we hear is the president, really low and angry-like, saying, ‘You have no idea of my  
wrath. If I had known, I would have hunted him down and killed him the moment they were born.  
How dare he?’  
And Raven replies, or this is as close as I can remember, ‘He didn’t _know!_ Don’t you  
understand? If you think he’d deliberately steal them from you, then you didn’t know him at all.’  
There’s a creak and a hum that I think it’s the sound of all the metal in the kitchen shifting. Magneto  
says something, too low for us to hear.  
‘Then listen to me!’ Raven cries. ‘He said over and over again he had no way to tell you, no way at all –  
and he wanted to see you _so badly_. When he found out about the twins, it was all we could do  
to keep him in hiding. He was messed up, he’d been in prison for so long and now he was in prison  
again, getting smuggled from one basement to another, never able to show his face except to the  
people we trusted the most. And to be pregnant on top of that, to know that he couldn’t contact you,  
that it would ruin everything, it nearly killed him.’  
‘Tell him the truth,’ said a woman’s voice, the white-suited woman. ‘Tell him the truth about what  
that traitor did.’  
‘Don’t you dare speak about my brother like that!’  
‘Then tell him the truth!’  
‘What truth?’ Raven just keeps shouting.  
There’s the sound of a chair pushed back and Magneto says something else about how Emma needs  
to explain herself right now.  
‘Wait here,’ Raven says suddenly. ‘Wait right here.’  
There’s footsteps and Pietro and I pull back but the corridor’s pretty small so there’s not really anywhere  
to go. She looks at us as she goes past, but she doesn’t say anything as she goes up our wee rickety  
stairs to her bedroom. When she comes back she’s holding something in her fist, and she pauses just  
long enough to point at us both and whisper, ‘You hear things going bad, you run like f*k, okay? Pietro,  
don’t outpace your sister.’  
We both nod and she goes back into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. Pietro and I can’t hear  
anything, so we go round to the ugly old bead curtain Hank hung on the side door and peer through it.  
The president’s just sitting at the table reading something, some piece of paper that Raven must have  
given him. I can only see his face in profile. I remember he’s touching his chin, like you do when you’re  
pretending to concentrate on your test when the teacher comes around. And then everyone jumps as he  
gets up and goes to the oven. He switches on the nearest element and puts the paper to it until catches  
fire. Raven makes a noise but she doesn’t tell him to stop. He throws the burning paper into the sink  
and then he turns around and looks right at us.  
Neither of us move as he strides across the room toward us. He parts the bead curtain with both hands.  
Raven’s on her feet and Hank’s leaning forward like he’s gonna do something drastic if the president  
makes any sudden moves, but he just stares at us, and we stare back.  
‘They’re mine,’ the president says raspy now, over his shoulder to the white-suited woman I guess.  
And then bloody Pietro, f*k man, he goes, ‘Get outta my house dude, Hank and Raven are our parents.  
So get out.’  
I think I might have done that thing in cartoons where someone swallows and it makes the loudest noise,  
you know? But the president turns and tells the white-suited woman to go and start the car. As he  
follows her out he stops and puts his hand up on the doorframe. His head’s bent over so he doesn’t look  
so tall. I see his shoulders are shaking. He doesn’t turn back though, he just leaves.  
Raven comes run over and pulls me into her chest. I can’t really feel it, like I’ve just come in from a cold  
wind. She’s lambasting Pietro for being a d*k and Hank’s got his arms round her and Pietro both. I can  
feel his fur on the back of my neck. I’m so scared that it’s gonna go bad, that we’ll get suddenly bombed  
by an airstrike or something, but everything just draws out after that. Pietro keeps asking questions of  
course and Raven tells us as much as she knows, but she doesn’t know what was on the letter that  
Magneto burned. Our dad – my g*d, our father – gave it to her before he left. He said she was never to read  
it, but to give it to Magneto – only he called him Erik – if she couldn’t answer all of Magneto’s questions.  
I want to throw up. I got told my whole childhood that Genosha was the best place in the world and then  
when I got older my Aunt and Uncle made me realise the president was a f*ing dictator and that everything  
will be better once he’s gone.  
And now this. 

______ _ _ _ _

_______Genoshan Tribune, 20th of September 1989:_  
 **GENOSHA MOURNS** _ _ _ _ _ _

______Page 1: full-page image of President Magneto_ _ _ _ _ _

______Page 2:  
A spokesman for the office confirmed that President Magneto died late last night of what is believed to be ricin poisoning, despite doctors administering various antidotes and even an attempt at a full blood transfusion. More than two dozen mutant healers had rushed to the hospital from as far away at the north-east peninsula to lend their services to the president, but medical staff this morning said only two or three had abilities capable of counteracting poison and that “time was not on our side”. _ _ _ _ _ _

______A university student working part-time in the kitchens of the government house was earlier arrested and charged with attempted murder, now upgraded to murder. He is an aquakinetic mutant who had written articles criticising the president’s recent initiation of peace talks with the United States and Canada. Police say several fellow students and a relative of the suspect overheard him declaring his intention to kill the president only a few hours before Magneto fell ill, and that they are following leads about where the poison could have been acquired._ _ _ _ _ _

______President Magneto was reelected two months ago after more than thirty years in the position. He narrowly beat out the first real competition he has had since 1975, when he made the controversial decision to revoke the “superior votes amendment” that prevented humans voting in national elections, which was put in place by his predecessor Sebastian Shaw. The government says it is too early to speculate about who will replace him, though vice president Ororo Munroe has already been sworn in as acting president until a decision can be made._ _ _ _ _ _

______Records about Magneto’s early life are sparse, but in his teens he was a crucial player in the birth of Genosha and in maintaining its strength during the difficult years following the War of Secession… [continued on page 3]_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

___________3rd of February, 1990_  
Dear Diary,  
Well, it happened. I found him. It’s all sort of a blur now, I don’t know how to  
describe it. Nothing like I imagined.  
It’s been so scary. Travelling everywhere and not knowing how things work,  
and having to lie to everyone who helps me, and trying to cover my Genoshan  
accent. And there were posters in one of the hotels I stayed at telling people  
to report anything they thought was mutant activity. I’ve barely been able to  
eat since I crossed the border.  
He met me at the train station. I was just standing there, I didn’t have a map  
or know whether I dared ask for directions. I didn’t know where I was going  
anyway. When I wrote the letters from Cincinatti to pretty much all the Charles  
Eisenhardts in Westchester (Raven said he’d hinted he might use that name,  
but I didn’t have much hope) I didn’t include any way of contacting me. But,  
well, he is a telepath.  
I was pretty confused about who he was when he came up to me. I’ve seen  
pictures, but he’s bald now and in a wheelchair. But then he said, ‘Hello, Wanda,’  
and I knew, right then. I burst into tears. It was so embarrassing. He had a  
packet of tissues at the ready, so I guess he knew one or both of us would. He  
asked me if I’d had any trouble with the journey, and I said no, and he said,  
sounding sort of nervous even though he looks like one of my professors,  
‘You’re twenty-one now, aren’t you? We can go somewhere and get a drink, if  
you like. I don’t want to rush you into anything.’  
‘I don’t have any ID,’ I said, and laughed.  
‘Oh, I suppose not,’ he laughed too, and he sounded like Pietro, and that made  
me laugh and then start crying again. I wish Pietro had come. Stupid stubborn  
bastard. ‘Well, I can always work a little magic,’ he said, and tapped his temple.  
Just for a second I saw scars there, and realised someone had implanted a  
blocker at one point, must have been a long time back because that’s so illegal  
at home. I guess he was using his powers to make people not see the scars.  
‘A bar sounds good,’ I said. Lots of people and not rushing into things.  
Definitely good.  
We found a quiet booth in a busy little pub full of students and arty types. He  
just asked me about my life for a while. Ages and ages, actually. He was good  
at getting me to talk. I was scared he’d be weird or mean or just boring, but  
we got along really well, considering. I’d brought photos of Pietro and Raven  
and Hank, and he was clearly glad to see those. I wanted to know about him,  
but I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t ask about the wheelchair, though it  
looked like it was a pretty old fixture in his life. So I asked about _him_.  
‘Raven said you were bonded,’ I winced. I know I’m an alpha but bonding seems  
so old-fashioned now, even if seventy-percent of marriages are still between  
bonded couples. ‘But, you know, I wouldn’t blame you if that didn’t mean squat.’  
‘Oh, I did love him,’ was all he said about that, and then asked, ‘Did you ever  
meet him?’  
‘A few times. He found out about us when Pietro and I were seventeen, and  
came round on random occasions. I think he didn’t really know what to do  
about us.’  
‘I imagine not.’  
‘And then last year when…’ I couldn’t figure out a nice way to say it. Assassination.  
That’s not something that happens to people you know, people who happen to be  
your father. I wished I was the telepath. ‘It’s what made me decide to find you.  
I wish I’d had more time with him.’  
‘So do I,’ he said.  
It seems to be generally pretty good. He’s really nice. Still, on the list of things I  
didn’t expect to happen in my life, this is definitely one of the top five.  
I wonder if I can get a job here, live with him for a while, find out about whether  
he’s happy or not. I’ll make Pietro come and visit, too. He won’t be able to resist.  
And I think it’s what our alpha father would have wanted, right? 

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______28th Feb. 1969_ _ _ _ _ _

______Erik,  
If you are reading this, it is because you have found Raven and there are only so many secrets left. I swear to you that she does not know what I divulge in this letter, or most of the pieces of our story. Please don't let your anger fall on her, but on me or on my memory, whatever my fate is now. I have lied to you and destroyed any hope you had for happiness. I take the blame in this entirety. Miss Frost may be able to undo some of the damage I've wrought, but if not and I am alive, find me and let me try. I will do anything for you._ _ _ _ _ _

______Here is the truth: when you and I met for the first time in the station of the Civil Peace Unit, you and Azazel were the only two not wearing blocker crowns. I was desperate and afraid and I used my abilities to make you feel for me the biological need I felt for Alex. I did not know that you had never been bonded before. You never will again until my spell can be undone, perhaps by a more accomplished telepath than myself. The truth is also that I have been bonded to Alex since we met in the army, when I was sixteen and he fourteen, though for each other's protection we stayed merely comrades for some years and have never officiated the union. But Alex is dead now and I cannot breathe knowing I have lost you both. Tomorrow I will, God willing, be in a lightless boat creeping across Lake Erie to Ohio. I don't know if my children are yours or Alex's, I only know they will have a better life here as free mutants. But I can't stay in Genosha, where every second set of eyes knows my face._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sometimes I dream of cold concrete walls and knowing, everyday, that I would see you soon. I wake hard and in tears and rub myself off thinking about you. I miss our conversations. I miss the shape of your shoulders in one of your fine suits. I miss the impossible future we might have had together. But that is perhaps the only truth you already knew, and the one you will never now believe._ _ _ _ _ _

______Your friend,  
C._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
